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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26440888">Working on the Trauma</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafoga/pseuds/Lafoga'>Lafoga</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Sex, Begging, Condoms, Daddy Issues, F/M, Face Slapping, First Time, Food Porn, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mention of underage noncon, Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Psychotropic Drugs, Trauma, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26440888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafoga/pseuds/Lafoga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail gets an extraordinary therapy session from Dr. Hannibal Lecter.<br/>He helps her re-experience the old trauma of her own father raping her younger self. It's hard to differentiate between past and present when being drugged with psychoactive substances. And Dr. Lecter plays the part of the abusing father very well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail Hobbs/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is taking place in the end of Season 1/Episode 4 after Abigail drinks the tea with Psilocybin (mushrooms) to work on her traumatic experiences.</p><p>Thanks to annvian for betareading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Have you ever tried Psilocybin?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mushrooms? That's what's in the tea?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>„Abigail. What do you see?“</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>„I see a family.“</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Those eggs and sausages were wonderful. Not exactly the way Daddy made them but extremely delicious. There she was. Miss Bloom – or was it Mommy? – had already left; Abigail was still sitting there with Hannibal – or Daddy? She couldn't tell actually – eating the meal she had eaten when she had seen her parents the last time in her life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her view became blurred when she pushed her plate away, making a satisfied sound.</p>
<p>“It was delicious. Thank you... Hannibal?”</p>
<p>She wasn't quite sure if it was right. She knew she was drugged with Mushrooms but she couldn't remember who gave them to her. Her dad was dead, something deep in the back of her head told her. But now he was sitting there, smiling at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hannibal – Daddy – stood up, taking the dirty plates with him. She took the time to take a few steps, looking around in the room. She stopped at the Cembalo, tipping one of the keys. It was a strange sound that seemed to come from a different century. She tried a few more of the blurring keys, forgetting the time, when she smelled the aftershave of her Daddy and felt his scratchy cheek on hers. A second later she saw Hannibal’s fingers besides hers, pushing a few of the keys, generating a nice melody. It was just a few notes and she tried to imitate them. It wasn't easy as she couldn't recognize which he tapped and therefore the melody she played was totally different to his one. She felt his muscular body pressing on her back from behind, his arms on her arms, while he played the melody again. She couldn't follow again but tried hard to copy it. She heard his tongue clicking in disappointment. She felt cold sweat running down her neck – she would not disappoint him, she couldn't because he would stop loving her then.</p>
<p>She tried the melody again – it was better this time, but it was still wrong. His left hand clamped her throat, squeezing her trachea while he played the melody with his right hand again. The pressure against her throat was solid but cautious. It was like being embraced and she closed her eyes to enjoy the narrowness and the inability to breathe. He had the power if she would breathe or die, she thought. She enjoyed it until panic began to rise, her lungs started to cry for air. She tried to shake her head but his grip was too strong. Didn't he notice she needed to breathe? Was he going to kill her? She felt her field of vision getting darker and smaller when his grip eased. She gasped for air loudly, breathing heavily.</p>
<p>He gave her a soft kiss on her temple before he straightened up and said:</p>
<p>“All right. Don't care about the Cembalo, you can learn it later. Dinner's ready, come on!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She didn't understand. Hadn't they already eaten? She wasn't hungry anymore, but the table was full of food. It looked like a five-star-menu and it would be enough for four more people, but there were only two plates on the table.</p>
<p>He moved her chair and she sat down. He took a napkin and folded it before he put it into the top of her shirt. His hands were careful and soft.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She took a look at the food in the bowls and plates all over the table. It was meat, lots of meat, and some vegetables and decoration. But most of it was meat from different animals and different parts of them. Her dad had always prepared meat for his family. He had always used all parts of the victim he had hunted. Sometimes she went on hunting with him together. They didn't always shoot animals.</p>
<p>She looked up to Hannibal who was watching her curiously. Did he know what she had done? She blinked and then she knew it – those weren't animals either! He nodded at her, knowing her thoughts. Then he stood up to serve her some of the meat. He didn't even give her any side dish but loaded meat onto her plate.</p>
<p>She lifted her hand to make him stop but no sound came out of her mouth. Her view blurred in a mixture of the Psilocybin and the tears that came into her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hannibal sat down. He didn't take a single piece of food for himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That looks delicious, but I am not hungry. I'm sorry.”</p>
<p>Hannibal slightly shook his head.</p>
<p>“I made all of this for you. You know we must not waste any part of the prey!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abigail nodded and took her fork. She skewered a small piece of red steak. Blood flooded out of it, wetting the other pieces on her plate. She could already feel the taste of iron on her tongue. Her hand trembled when she shoved the fork into her mouth. Tears ran down her cheeks while she chewed the meat. It tasted delicious yet horrible. It didn't get less no matter how much she chewed so she just swallowed all in one. When her mouth was empty she looked at Hannibal again. He was patiently watching her, a slight grin on his face. He nodded, implying her to keep eating.</p>
<p>She chose a dark brown piece of what could have been a kidney or liver. Everything inside of her struggled against it. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her and made it impossible to swallow. She didn't move, her body trembling from sobs. She felt a hand on her upper arm and heard his voice. “Eat!” her Daddy told her. “Eat it for me!”</p>
<p>She nodded and continued to chew. She stopped thinking and kept on eating the meat. She didn't taste it anymore; it was just a mechanical movement until her plate was empty except of a puddle of blood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had been rich before she started to eat but now she felt really full, her belly bulging under her shirt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hannibal stood up and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. It was warm and dry and she closed her eyes to smell her father's aftershave. She didn't recognize he had started to put more meat on her plate.</p>
<p>A new wave of nausea overcame her at the thought to eat even more. She pushed her plate away but Hannibal didn't let her do so. His hand put the fork into her hand.</p>
<p>“Don't waste it!”</p>
<p>He kept standing next to her, his hip touching her elbow. She shook her head. She couldn't eat even one more bit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabbed her neck with his left arm and squeezed. She winced and bowed her head back to release the effect. She was now looking right into his eyes. They were merciless and his lips formed the word: “<em>Eat</em>!”</p>
<p>She couldn't see the plate and searched with her fork to find some of the meat. She shoved it into her mouth and started to chew. Daddy didn't blink while he watched her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She ate the whole plate but he didn't stop putting more meat onto it. She shook her head.</p>
<p>“I won't eat a single bite anymore!” she said, wondering how much willpower she had in her voice. She really couldn't handle more of it. And there was still so much in the bowls – if she didn't stop him now he would go on forever, she feared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She threw the fork away in a moment of clearness and defiance. She didn't see the slap coming. It hit her left cheek and made white stars dance in her head. She looked up in surprise and the anger in his eyes made her shiver. But she wouldn't eat a single bit.</p>
<p>Another slap hit her face, now the other side. Daddy had rarely hit her, he had other ways to make her submissive. The Psilocybin made her head too dizzy to think. Why did he hit her now? Why did she have to eat? And why didn't she do what he wanted her to?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She still didn't move. Moments – minutes or hours? – passed.</p>
<p>“Come on, eat. Do it for Daddy!” he said. She felt one hand on her jawbone, the other one pressing her nose. She didn't struggle long until she opened her mouth. With his thumb and index finger on her jaw he forced her to keep it open, while his right hand skewered a piece of food and shoveled it into her mouth. He released her jaw to let her chew. She did what she had to do. She couldn't win this game.</p>
<p>He didn't need to force her mouth open again but he continued to feed her fork by fork. She chewed and swallowed and opened for the next one. She didn't think about it anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You're a good girl, Abigail. You made Daddy very proud!”</p>
<p>He had stopped feeding her. The plate was empty and he didn't put a new portion onto it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come with me, Abigail. You have been a good girl. I am very proud of you!”</p>
<p>He placed another kiss on her forehead before he took her hand and pulled her through the room to a wooden door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She entered the room. It was illuminated by flickering candles. She wondered if they had burned for hours now or if Hannibal had just lightened them. She didn't ask; it did not matter.</p><p> </p><p>He made her sit down on the edge of the huge bed. It was covered in dark red satin sheets that were soft and cold under Abigail's skin. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Hannibal was standing in front of her, looking down with an impression of pride and warmth. He patted her hair softly and she closed her eyes in comfort. It was as if she had been here before, all this felt so familiar to her. But she couldn't remember when this should have been.</p><p> </p><p>He kneeled in front of her so that their faces were in one height. He gave her a kiss on the lips. It was passionate yet not like a boyfriend's kiss. More like a mother kissing a young child.</p><p> </p><p>“Every good meal has to end with a special sweet, right? I know you're not hungry anymore but this dessert won't fill your stomach, I promise you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stood up, leaving her puzzled. He opened the zipper and button of his trousers smoothly and released his already half erected penis. It was standing upright in front of Abigail's head. It felt like a déjà-vu and she still didn't know what would follow.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you to taste my most delicious piece of meat, little Abigail. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.”</p><p> </p><p>She opened her mouth voluntarily. Her drugged brain still didn't understand the connection between his words and his erection. She was still waiting for the dessert.</p><p>When he filled her mouth with his penis she coughed in surprise. His hands had grabbed her hair so she couldn't escape.</p><p> </p><p>“Close your lips. Lick it. Enjoy every inch of it, daughter!”</p><p>She did as she was told; there weren't many opportunities to resist. She looked up into the face of her father. She was there again, those evenings her mother had to work longer and they were alone at home. She suddenly knew what to do. She closed the lips around his penis and started to lick and suck. She felt it grow bigger and harder inside her warm hole. Hannibal's expression stayed calm, he just closed his eyes in pleasure. His hands grabbed her hair tighter and shoved more of his penis into her mouth. She had to stay calm not to gag.</p><p> </p><p>“This is enough. You had enough dessert for today. Let's go on with this experience. Psilocybin doesn't function forever.”</p><p>He pulled his penis out of her mouth and took a step back. He was still fully dressed. He removed his shoes and trousers and untacked his cufflinks. He got rid of his waistcoat, tie and shirt. He wrapped it tidily onto a chair. At last he took off his narrow boxer shorts.</p><p>Abigail just watched him fascinated getting undressed. She had never thought about his body before but she wasn't surprised about his muscular body. He had little body hair on his pale skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Lie down. We will see which other traumatic experiences we will reveal. We are on a very good way towards healing your soul, Abigail. We cannot stop now, no matter what happens.”</p><p>She did as she was told. She was still wearing all of her clothes. He climbed onto her, naked with erected penis, and started to open her necklace. The fresh scar on her throat shone bright red. He helped her out of her pullover and shirt and opened her bra with skillful hands before he opened her trousers and pulled them off together with her slip and socks. He threw them onto the floor carelessly. He was kneeling above her hips, skin touching skin.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Abigail watched her father kneading her tiny breasts roughly. They had just begun to grow and she felt a mixture of shame and pride. Was that what daddies did with their teenage daughters?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She didn't like what he did but he didn't care about her betting to stop it. He never did and he didn't stop now. And it wasn't the worst thing he did that day. He gave her a kiss on every nipple and then his hands wandered down her thin body. It tickled the first of her pubic hair and forced her to open her legs. She knew this was a spot she was not supposed to show to boys, but this was her Daddy, it was ok, she told herself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He licked his index finger and forced it into the front hole between her legs. It hurt horribly and she begged him to stop, but he did not stop.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The older Abigail now remembered what was going to happen next. She looked into Hannibal's, into her Daddy's eyes, while his fingers were experiencing her female body parts.</p><p>It did hurt right now but she knew the worst thing was just going to happen. She started to sob; tears ran down her temples and moistened the pillow beneath her head.</p><p>“Please, please don't... Don't do it, it will hurt me!” she begged, hardly understandable underneath her sobs.</p><p>He stopped his hands and gave her a look of sympathy and warmth.</p><p>“I know, Abigail, but we have come so far by now. We can handle the rest of it, I promise you. You are strong and it will help you heal. I will take care of you, Abigail!”</p><p>He gave her a kiss onto the middle of her forehead before he grabbed into his night cabinet. She saw him unwrap a condom and use it before he squeezed some lube between her legs. It was cold and unfamiliar. That didn't fit to her trauma but she didn't say it. He knew what he was doing. He was a therapist; he would never do her any harm.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He lifted her hips and a moment later he thrust his penis into her vagina. He wasn't careful at all but it did not hurt as much as it did the first time. She couldn't wipe the memory off. Daddy didn't use lube, he used spit and she was extremely disgusted. He thrusted into her narrow hole and soon came to a point where she felt something like a barrier. It hurt more than anything had ever hurt before in her life. He gagged her mouth with his huge hand while he broke her hymen with a strong thrust. She screamed into his hand, feeling something warm and slippery inside of her burning vagina. Why did Daddy do this to her? What was she supposed to learn by this?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She gave up screaming and begging. She didn't move anymore and tried to forget that Hannibal was now right on top and inside of her. Daddy and he were trying to help her, she knew that. They never wanted to hurt her.</p><p>Daddy started to moan deep. Hannibal speeded his rhythm. He kept watching every expression on her face. She didn’t know what he wanted to see: did he really think she was enjoying it? Would he get ready faster if he thought she liked it? Or would he stop if he saw how much she hated it? She made a grimace of pain but Hannibal didn’t change anything. Daddy wouldn’t have changed, too. She would survive this and later everything would get better. She trusted him so much she would do anything for him. And so she gave him a smile. It was not warm or honest and must have been odd with the tears rolling from her eyes but it was the best she could give him right now.</p><p> </p><p>That seemed to have changed something. Hannibal stopped penetrating her and pulled his penis out. He turned her around so she lay belly down on the bed. She knew what he was up to even though he had never done this before.</p><p>“Daddy, no, please, don’t do that!” she beseeched him.</p><p>He lifted her bottom and started to stroke it. She felt herself blushing. It was humiliating to be seen that way, her back hole being exposed like this.<br/>
He started rubbing it carefully but when he entered her extremely narrow hole she whimpered in pain. He didn’t take much time to stretch her wider before he pounded her. She yelped and had the feeling to be ripped apart every time he pushed inside of her. She arched her back to get away from him but he pinned her wrists to the sheets with all of his weight. He had stopped to be the formal and caring man he had been and had totally become a monster. He didn’t care about her screams.</p><p>He didn’t take long to reach the edge. He panted while he came, his lap vibrating in lust.</p><p> </p><p>He took some seconds to breathe, his penis slowly getting soft inside of her, before he released her and stood up. She fell down to the bed, her whole body trembling from sobs, while she saw him tidy his hair. He dressed himself in a dark blue satin dressing gown. There he was again, the famous therapist. Only the odor of sex surrounding him commemorated what had just happened.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on, Abigail. This is enough for today. You have done very well.”</p>
<p>He took her hand and helped her getting up. He guided her to the bathroom, where he turned on the hot tap and added some bath essence with the scent of lavender to the water. He helped her into the bathtub, where she sat down. She hissed when her private parts met the warm water. It felt sore but the warmth comforted the rest of her skin.</p>
<p>“Lavender helps to calm down. Close your eyes and try to relax, Abigail. I am here for you, nobody can harm you anymore!”</p>
<p>He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub while he carefully wetted her hair. She did as she was said and closed her eyes, enjoying his caress. He softly rubbed some shampoo into her hair, massaging her sculp. She could feel her muscles slowly relax. She heard calm music coming from another room – she didn’t know if it’s been playing all the time or if he just turned it on.</p>
<p>He gave her some minutes in peace while he massaged her shoulders before he washed out the shampoo. She was feeling dizzy and wished nothing more than to sleep. He didn’t let her do so and helped her out of the bathtub.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Get yourself dressed; I’ll bring you back to the hospital. We will talk about that session the next time we meet.”</p>
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